


Why Didn't You Score?

by ahhhhrexa



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Champions League, Childlike Wonder, FC Barcelona, Football | Soccer, Freeform - I guess, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Multi, Post Champions League Match, Post UCL FC Barcelona vs Manchester City match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahhhhrexa/pseuds/ahhhhrexa
Summary: Looking over toward where the trays of food were, they see Neymar handing Luis’ daughter Delfina a piece of a chocolate cookie. The little girl with her hair tied back, in a Barca jersey and jeans, has a huge smile on her face as she takes the sweet. 
Ney always gets along with his teammates children. He has so much joy in his heart akin to that of a child’s joy that children are naturally drawn to him.  
“Not so much,” Luis says to them, still chewing his food. “It’s late, and I want you to be able to sleep.” 
Delfina doesn’t look away from Neymar. Her grin is wide as she takes a bite of the cookie, she closes her eyes momentarily in enjoyment and when she opens them she giggles again when Neymar gives her a little wink. Her little crush on the Brazilian, clear as day to anyone grows stronger and makes her little cheeks become flushed. 
“Ahh give her some slack!” Ney replies. He rips off another piece of the cookie and gives it to the little girl. They both put the little pieces of cookies in their mouths, chew, and grin at each other. “She deserves the treat,” he continues, and he offers up his hand which Delfina high fives. 
Masche shakes his head. “He wasn’t talking to her, Ney.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by many things like the IG post Messi made congratulating Suarez on his golden boot, inspired by the UCL game against MCFC, and of course, inspired by Suarez saying this at the award ceremony, “My son Benja asked me why I didn’t score [against City] but he was happy because our neighbor Messi scored three.”

Luis eagerly eats one of the slices of bread given to him by the nutritionist. The bread is lightly toasted with a spread of dulce de leche topped with sliced bananas. The dulce de leche must be Mascherano’s idea, he thinks. It’s good fuel for a hungry man after 90 minutes of hard work. Why should he pass up on it?

 

On another night, if he had scored, he would have earned a slice of pizza and maybe even a burger. A burger is always good reward; brings back good memories of the ones Ney grabbed. Sliced bread it is, he thinks. He isn’t one to complain about food though. It all tastes good to him.

 

“Crazy game, no?” Masche says beside him.

 

Both of them are sitting on the booth end of the table. Masche’s back is against the wall, legs drawn up to his chest so he could wrap his arms around his knees, feet on the booth bottom.

 

“Jeremy sent off instead of you.” Luis jokes. He hands his friend one slice of the post-match snack. Mache is glaring at him now, but there’s also a patient smile on his face. “Yeah, super crazy game, Jefe.”

 

Masche accepts the bread, taking it and giving back a nod. His glare disappears as soon as he takes a bite of the bread. His smile becomes wider after he swallows and he responds in good humor, “Oh so the next time you dive, you want me to run up there and cause hell?”

 

Luis curses a bit and tries to slap at Masche, but the midfielder turned center back dodges it. He glares slightly, and tries again to no avail.

 

Shaking his head, he laughs back, “Yes, yes. That’s what you should do. Always defending Lio, but never me!”

 

“Oh!” Masche cries out as he tries to slap back at Luis and he fails as well. He points at Luis. “Because you’re never really hurt!” he says, smiling back and wagging his finger. “You’re like a twig in the wind.” He motions his hands. “You’re down at least five times a game!”  
  
“Not like you haven’t dived either!” Luis retorts with a snort. He can think back on many instances that Masche dove. “Don’t act like you’re not guilty of it.”

 

“Never said I wasn’t.” Masche grins. “I just implied that I’m better at it.”

 

“You!” Luis exclaims good-naturedly. He reaches for the cup of mate that’s on the table next to Masche, but the other man takes a swig of it first. “Puta!” Luis whispers which earned him a shrug from Masche.

  
“Hehehe.”

 

They both hear high-pitched giggles from familiar people. Looking over toward where the trays of food were, they see Neymar handing Luis’ daughter Delfina a piece of a chocolate cookie. The little girl with her hair tied back, in a Barca jersey and jeans, has a huge smile on her face as she takes the sweet.

 

This isn’t a particularly surprising sight for them. Ney always gets along with his teammates children. He has so much joy in his heart akin to that of a child’s joy that children are naturally drawn to him. He, more often than not, is a co-conspirator with any child especially when they are off to enact mischievous things like pranks.

 

“Not so much,” Luis says to them, still chewing his food. “It’s late, and I want you to be able to sleep.”

 

Delfina doesn’t look away from Neymar. Her grin is wide as she takes a bite of the cookie, she closes her eyes momentarily in enjoyment and when she opens them she giggles again when Neymar gives her a little wink. Her little crush on the Brazilian, clear as day to anyone grows stronger and makes her little cheeks become flushed.

 

“Ahh give her some slack!” Ney replies. He rips off another piece of the cookie and gives it to the little girl. They both put the little pieces of cookies in their mouths, chew, and grin at each other. “She deserves the treat,” he continues, and he offers up his hand which Delfina high fives.

 

Masche shakes his head. “He wasn’t talking to her, Ney.”

 

This makes Delfina laugh loudly. She quickly covers her mouth when she sees the look on Ney’s face. Mouth open, eyes going from wide to small in a squint and back to wide, the young man shifts his feet.

 

“Just eat your slice of Masche diet, Gordito!” Ney winds up saying. He huffs afterwards a bit, even stomps his feet a bit before pushing the rest of the cookie into his mouth in defiance. He grabs another cookie from the tray and hands it to Delphina who accepts it.

 

Before he could finish enjoying the cookie, Ney yelps when Masche’s strong hands slap the back of his head. He tries to escape the incoming fingers to his side, but he’s too slow, and Masche’s already poking him over and over.

 

“Quick, little one, help me.” Masche says, looking down at Delphina. He grins at her as she looks at her father to Neymar to the cookie in her hand to him and back to Masche. “You’ll get to have that cookie and another one if you do,” he adds while switching his poking to tickling.

 

Luis laughs his high laugh as Delfina nods excitedly. He nearly chokes when Ney yelps again after swallowing the rest of the cookie and tries to maneuver himself away from the onslaught of both Masche and his daughter’s hands.

 

Returning his attention to the plate in front of him, Luis picks up the other half to the slice of bread he was eating. He picks it up and takes another bite. He tries his best not to focus too much on the antics of his daughter, and his two friends. The three are laughing hysterically now.

 

Unable to resist though, he glances at them to see his daughter and Masche chasing after a running Ney as he sways back and forth, side to side, round and round the dining area, and finally out toward the hallway.

 

“So much trouble over a cookie.” Luis says to himself as he takes another bite.

 

He chews it thoughtfully thinking about how well everyone treats his children. He thinks even more about how clear it is that Masche and Ney should become a thing. It’s so obvious the two have a connection. “One day they’ll get it,” he thinks, wiping the stain of the spread from the corner of his mouth.

 

“Papa!”

 

He looks up again to see his son, Benjamin, walking out from the same hallway that his daughter, Masche, and Ney went to. The little boy’s holding hands with Lio and he has a curious look on his face, one that Luis was quite familiar with. The boy wants to ask something. He smiles at both his son and his partner. He readies himself for whatever question his son has for him by sitting up straighter.

 

“Yes, Benja?” he asks invitingly. He scoots a bit to the side so the table isn’t blocking him anymore. He raises his arms through the opening. “What is it?” he asks, expecting the little boy to run into his arms.

 

His son stops himself and Lio from walking about a foot away from Luis. He shakes his head, tightening his grip on his uncle’s hand. Benja fixes his father with his brown eyes, bites his lips, and asks, “Why didn’t you score?”

 

Luis puts his arms down and lays his hands on his knees. He sees the genuine worry and minor disappointment in his son’s eyes. This question didn’t surprise him. His children are quite used to him scoring often so whenever he doesn’t they always wonder what went wrong. Well, Benja wonders more than Delphina.

 

“I’ve had plenty of chances, don’t you think?” he asks back. There’s no reprimand in his tone rather there’s more amusement in it as Benja looks back at him with more confusion even after he nods back at his father’s words. “Tonight wasn’t my night, my son,” he continues.

 

Benja tugs on Lio’s hand over and over until the Argentine picks the little boy up and carries him. He’s looking at Lio now instead of his father. His chubby cheeks are puffed out, his hands hold onto Lio’s shirt as his eyes squint just a bit as if analyzing the man before him.

 

“You should have assisted, Papa.” Benja says in a matter of fact tone. He looks completely serious. His eyes are no longer squinting and he looks Lio straight in the eyes with a peculiar confidence. “Papa always assists you,” the little boy adds. “Why didn’t you assist him?”

 

Luis refrains from laughing out loud. He waits for Lio to respond. They both have had this type of discussion with Benja before. It goes one of two ways: 1) Benja talks about his Papa not scoring and why Lio didn’t do anything about it 2) Benja talks about Lio not scoring and scolds his Papa on why he didn’t help Lio. Neither minds these little chats with the boy because it never ends where Benja’s opinion of them falters.

 

Smiling kindly, Lio plants a gentle kiss on Benja’s forehead. The little boy tries to pull away, squeaking, “Tio, no kisses, answer the question.”

 

But Lio doesn’t stop kissing him, he moves his kisses to the boy’s neck and starts blowing into Benja’s neck, mouth closed, but the vibration and air hits the boy all the same. This makes Benja giggle and squirm at the tickling feeling. He tries to push his uncle away with his hand, but Lio’s stronger and he loves the little laugh the boy has.

 

“No!” Benja laughs. “Tio, st-sto-stoo-stop!” he cries. He giggles and squirms some more. Looking at his father, humorous desperation in his eyes, he entreats his father, “Make him sto-sto-stop!”

 

Luis almost doesn’t go to help his son, too amused by the situation, and completely in love with how well the two get along. But he knows that they’ll have to answer to the little boy. Once Benja has it in his mind to talk about football like this, he won’t stop talking about it.

 

“Yeah, Lio! Why didn’t you assist me?” he asks, withholding as much his laugh as he can. He receives a grateful look from his son when Lio pulls himself away and puts Benja back down to his feet.

 

Benja quickly runs towards his father. He sticks out his tongue at Lio as soon as Luis wraps his arms around the boy. He avoids the kiss that his dad wants to lay on his cheek to face his uncle. He nods expectantly, gesturing his hands like his father when his father wants a foul called in a game of backyard football whenever his other uncles like Masche come over the house.

 

Lio runs his hand through his hair and then runs the same hand through his beard. He makes a show of being extra thoughtful by doing this. Luis knows he already has an answer up and ready, and another one up his sleeve just in case.

 

“I tried to assist him. I promise, Benja, I did try.” Lio finally says. He makes a step forward. “But you see, in games like this, sometimes things don’t go your way.” He has a warm smile on his face and he moves another step forward. “But believe me, no one besides you and Delphi, would be happier to see your father score more than me.”

 

Luis marvels at how Lio is able to make anyone – adult or child – feel good about themselves, how he’s calm people down with just his words. Lio doesn’t raise his voice. His voice is a like a melody that people just want to keep on hearing.

 

They lock eyes and don’t look away. Lio’s eyes are soft and filled with adoration. For a second, Luis feels like a breeze just hit him. It’s like he’s on an island somewhere. There’s warmth around him and in his arms. He feels safe and content. He hopes he is showing just as much love right back in his eyes.

 

“I wish you could have scored.” Benja says, glancing at his father. His lips are pursed and he’s fumbling with the collar of Luis’ shirt. The young boy always takes so much joy when his father scores. After a moment of silence, Benja returns his attention back to Lio, and says, “Next time, make extra sure Papa scores.”

 

Luis uses this moment to kiss his son on the back of his head. He likes how stubborn his son is. Sure it may cause him problems in the future, but right now it was endearing.

 

“Next time, I promise.” Lio swears.

 

Benja turns around, still in his father’s arms, and kisses Luis on the cheek. “When you score, you’ll do that celebration!” Luis laughs, nodding in answer and in appreciation of his son’s determination.

 

“Yes, I will,” he promises.

 

Benja continues looking at his father deep in his eyes. He has this very serious look on him. The sincerity of it all makes Luis’ heart melt. After a few moments, as if finally believing what he is being told, Benja swerves back around to face Lio with a big smile on his face, his chubby cheeks looking extra chubby.

 

“I’m happy you scored,” Benja says. The pitch of his voice gets higher as he continues, “You scored three!” He holds up three fingers. “See that! That’s a hat trick! You got another hat trick ball!”

 

Lio steps forward, closing the gap between him and the Suarez’s. He bends his knees down, and nearly squats in front of the two. He extends his hand and ruffles Benja’s hair after giving the boy a kiss on the cheek.

 

“Thank you,” he says. He looks up at Luis. “Thank you.”

 

Loud laughter bursts into the room.

 

Back from the hallway comes Ney with what looks like a Barca brand pillow in his hands. He’s laughing as he steps on the part of the booth that Masche was previously sitting on. He pulls back his arms, waiting to strike at whomever comes at him. Sweat coming down his face and his heart was beating so fast that Luis and Lio could see his shirt move.

 

Masche and Delfina come running just a few moments after both holding their own Barca brand pillow. Both have determined looks on a their faces. Delfina’s giggling and flushing while Masche just has a wicked grin on his face.

 

“You can’t run forever!” Delfina coos. She pulls back her pillow, fingers clutching the object, and her face still so red.

 

Masche nods with those eyes of his flashing. “Listen to the little one,” he says. He cocks his head forward and then back. He pulls his arms back. It looks a bit scary to Luis. Even with a pillow Masche looks so dangerous. “Just put. The. Pillow. Down.” Masche warns.

 

Luis lets go of Benja who was pushing his body against his arms. He watches at the little boy avoids Lio completely and steps on top of the booth. Lio takes this moment to rise up and pull out the metal chair in front of the table and of Luis. He sits down and waits to see what’s going to happen next.

 

Half expecting Benja to team up with Ney, Luis says to them both, “Fight fair and don’t hit too hard.” He loves watching his family and his team-family interact.

 

This pillow fight can go a lot of ways, and knowing Ney, there could be accidents and knowing Masche, it could get a bit more extraneous and a little dangerous if not held back by responsibility like the responsibility of not making a child like Benja cry or making any of the kids get hurt.

 

“Masche, he’s talking to you, too.” Lio says.

 

Masche remains still, posed as before to strike. “I try not to get into fights” he responds, completely ignoring what Lio said. “But when I do, I finish them.” He pauses then moves to be in line with Delfina. “We finish our fights,” he amends earning a delighted cry of “Yeah!” from the little girl.

 

“Masche…” Lio and Luis say at the same time.

 

Ney has given Benja his pillow. He’s pulling the little boy’s arm back and whispering something into his ear. They’re both trying to keep from laughing, Benja keeps fidgeting, almost jumping in place, ready to do whatever Ney has just told him to do.

 

But whatever warning is in the tone of Luis and Lio, it falls on deaf ears and before Ney and Benja could do whatever they were planning to do, Masche and Delfina rush forward towards their rivals.

 

 

“Benja, Benja!” Ney cries as Delfina slides under the table. He tries to keep an eye on both Masche and Delfina at the same time, but he has to make a choice. “Oh!” he says as Delfina comes to the other side, out from under the table, and hits him on the leg. “Benja, Benja!” He pretends to sound a bit distressed as he calls his honorary nephew.

 

There’s nothing that Benja can do. Masche has already gotten to him. The Argentina deftly blocks the defending little boy. He takes a big step and climbs onto the booth, avoiding being between the boy and Ney, and sends a light hit towards Benja’s face.

 

Luis’ ready to stand up and stop the whole thing after seeing his son get a pillow to his face. He waits just a bit with Lio to hear any sort of cry from the three year old.

 

“No, Benja!” Ney shouts dramatically.

 

He puffs out his cheeks, ignores the onslaught of Delfina’s surprisingly strong pillow hits, with one large step gets to Benja, and puts himself between the boy and Masche. He gets there fast enough that the little boy doesn’t get hit in the face again.

 

Instead, he takes the damage, and feels the weight of the pillow push into his face. He makes himself slip down into a seated position on the booth and Masche continues to go blow after blow on Ney’s face and body.

 

Lio is laughing so hard that he’s almost pink. He’s clutching his stomach and shaking at the scene before him. Masche is hitting Ney in the face and Delfina is on the other side tickling Ney’s underarm. Ney’s screaming and laughing, shaking uncontrollably, trying and failing to keep his guard, it’s a picture-worthy sight.

 

Benja stands there. He doesn’t make a move to help his teammate. He just laughs and laughs at what he’s seeing. The pillow is still in his arms but he doesn’t try to hit anyone with it.

 

“Ben-hehe-ja, ho-how co-haha-could you?” Ney says. He’s blocking as much of the blows as he can with his arm while trying to stop himself from laughing and screaming so much while being tickled. “He-haha-help meeee!”

 

“Will you go and help him, my son?” Luis asks, trying to get some air after having a fit of laughter. Benja knows every one of these teammates by name and loves being around them. But besides Lio and Masche, and Uncle Uncle Lucho as he likes to call the mister, Ney is an uncle that Benja truly adores. “Whatever you decide,” Luis adds. “Whatever you decide is okay.”

 

Masche sweetly says whilst dominating Ney in a pillow fight, “Or you could help me and your sister.” One more calculated hit is made. “I’ll get you another cookie as well!”

 

Benja turns to his dad and Lio. He’s biting his lip, eyes deeper than before, and he’s scratching his head and lets the pillow fall on the ground. He looks confused.

“What is it, Benja?” Lio asks.

 

Benja turns back to his sister and two uncles.

 

“Uncle Ney scored,” he says slowly. He steps forward and grabs Masche’s arm preventing the man from hitting his uncle again.

 

Ney mouths “thank you” to the little boy and Delfina drops her hands. She watches her little brother expectantly and patiently. She’s a bit tired now. As much as she likes to play games, it’s late and she wouldn’t mind resting for a bit or even actually going to bed.

 

“Tio Ney scored, and Uncle Lio scored.” Benja continues. He holds out four fingers. “That’s four scored.” He looks around him, and bites his lips some more before looking up at Masche’s face again.

 

Masche tosses the pillow onto the floor. He kneels down so that they’re eye to eye. Tilting his head, quite curious, he says encouragingly, “What is it, young one?”

 

“MSN.” Benja says. “That’s papa, Tio, and Tio Ney.” He puts his fingers down. Masche’s eyes are kind, patient even. The little Suarez doesn’t feel any pressure. He looks at his dad and feels more at ease when he sees him nodding.

 

“I’ve never seen you score.” Benja finally says, looking directly into Masche’s eyes, frown on his face. He looks concerned as if the notion of a Barca players not scoring is almost unbelievable. “Why didn’t you score?” he asks.

 

Luis and the others can see the logic in the question. Benja has seen MSN score, seen Iniesta score, and even seen Pique and Jordi score. But out of his most important of Tios, never has he seen Masche score.

 

Ney covers his mouth with both his hands. Doing this fails to hide the laughter. His eyes go wide and his body looks like it convulses due to how hard he was laughing. Delfina is looking at Masche with the same amount of curiosity that her brother has. She’s stopped tickling Ney and is now sitting on top of one of the tables.

 

Luis and Lio both knew that Masche has scored before. It may have been in a friendly for his national side and it may have been with other teams, but Masche has scored a goal before. Just not at Barca. Luis believed he either ties or is close to beating the club record for longest without a goal.

 

Masche, to his credit, remains unfazed. He stays silent for a couple of seconds although it felt like minutes before he actually spoke. Probably one of the gentlest, soothing smiles forms upon his lips as he brushes a bang of hair away from Benja’s face.

 

“No, I haven’t scored yet for Barca,” he admits. “But I’m not upset about it.” He wipes away nonexistent dirt or flint away from Benja’s shoulders. “I love to play. As long as I get to play, I’ll be happy.”  


Luis always liked the way Masche thinks. He was a combination of a dreamer and a realist. He could imagine beautiful things and he had the ability to actually verbalize what those things are. That’s why everyone in the locker room relies so heavily upon them. When they need a rock, a steady hand, a gentle breeze to move forward they’ll go to Masche.

 

Benja considers the words for a moment.

 

He takes his time thinking by looking around him. He sees his sister is now in Lio’s arm. Her head is using Lio’s bicep as a pillow, a perfect place to relax. His uncle is watching him and his dad, quiet in his thoughts, but a soothing presence. His other uncle, Ney, is sitting down, eating a slice of bread with his dad rolling his eyes and muttering at him.

 

He returns his gaze to his uncle Masche.

 

“MSN needs to stop being so selfish! Papa, Uncle Ney, Uncle Lio, why don’t you assist, Uncle Masche?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this went, but it went somewhere. Story is a bit all over the place. I know I'm going to have to edit this, but not right now...
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you think if you can! Thanks for reading!


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